


In the Early Mornings

by SmallTownRoseBudd



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, Hope, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Sappy, Sleepy Cuddles, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 11:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20620013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmallTownRoseBudd/pseuds/SmallTownRoseBudd
Summary: Patrick loves early mornings with David. And even though David hates nicknames, this one morning made Patrick think of the perfect private nickname for him.





	In the Early Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't ever written in this fandom before. Please be kind. It's full of a ridiculous amount of fluff and love and happy Patrick/David.

David was not a fan of pet names. He didn’t like nicknames either. He liked that his name began and ended “strong.” It just sounded correct. And so did Patrick. No need for “Pat” or “Dave.” Patrick and David sounded together, complete.

Of course, Patrick had tried a few pet names on him in jest. “Baby” didn’t sit well with him. Neither did “dear,” or _Oh God_ “hun.” All sounded slightly condescending and brought him back to a time when the person calling him those names was doing it because they simply didn’t care enough to remember what his name actually was. And he did love to hear his name fall from Patrick’s sweet mouth – whether it was from frustration at his antics in the store or panted in between moans in the dark of their bedroom.

But Patrick did keep trying names on for size, trying to come up with one that fit everything he felt for David. Until one clicked. It came into his brain and out his lips before he could stop it and it just _fit._

David was snuggled into Patrick, half across his chest, nestled into his shoulder with one arm lightly holding Patrick close. Patrick woke when David murmured in his sleep. The room was starting to be filled with gray light from the earliest indication of sunrise. Patrick tended to wake early, much earlier than David. He always had. In these wee morning hours, he loved to take in the moments and breathe in the “rightness” of it all. Of David’s shock of dark hair, disheveled and flat on one side, in stark contrast to Patrick’s pale chest where it rested. Of how good David felt on his chest as he held him with one arm, their legs intertwined, secluded into their own little world.

Patrick liked sleeping like this. He was the smaller of the two men, but as much as he loved being cuddled into David, Patrick preferred to be the one holding him through the night. When laying on his back, one arm holding David close, and the other free to stroke his face or hand to soothe him in his sleep Patrick felt like his protector. David was not a sound sleeper. He woke sometimes startled and wide-eyed, unknown demons from his past invading his dreams. This position made it easy to pull him back in, let him know he was safe, and to kiss him till he slept again. Those moments were becoming less frequent, but they still happened. And when they did, Patrick loved that he could make David feel safe and secure quickly. 

In the waking hours, David was the big personality that filled any room he entered. He was immediately noticed by all who encountered him. Patrick, though, was quieter and it took a minute before his disarming smile and quick wit got attention. In the beginning of their relationship, it was David who had all the experience and was leading the way, though Patrick was a quick study and his wit brought him to level the field faster than David expected. But in their bedroom, in the dark hours, Patrick was the steady one and he was so grateful he could be that for David.

The late October breeze was chilly as it ruffled the curtains. Patrick treasured these fall days where windows could be opened at night, the bite in the air causing his fiancé to cuddle closer to him under their blankets. It felt so right, snug under the covers together. Barely awake, he smoothed David’s hair back off his forehead and his brow furrowed just a bit. Patrick eased a thumb across his temple, releasing the tension he found there and David responded to the touch by nuzzling in closer.

It was in these moments that he could allow his love for David to overwhelm him without worrying about David noticing and spiraling. He could admire and dream of everything that could eventually be theirs. He could imagine a house with a big porch, mornings sipping hot coffee and tea there together. His mind wandered to days the store would have employees and they could spend more time together. To images of time to travel together, maybe a dog, and maybe even a child or two running around, playing on a tire swing in the front yard - a little girl with David’s dark hair or a little boy with his mischievous grin. Of course, he didn’t voice these dreams to David, not yet at least. But in this near-morning, his heart overflowed with possibilities. Hope. All the joy that could be his, or theirs because of the man next to him.

Patrick turned just enough to catch David’s forehead with a kiss and leaned his cheek on his hair – something he could never do when David was awake. He felt him stir, underneath the thick quilt his mother had made them when they moved in together. She’d told him that she didn’t “want her boys to get cold.” It was perfect. Stark dark and white for David’s tastes, but in a pattern called “twinkling stars” that had been the pattern of the quilt on Patrick’s bed growing up. The gesture had nearly brought David to tears when they’d opened the box at the store.

And quickly following those near tears was a call to Patrick’s mother, first thanking her for the wonderful, and _correct_ tasteful gift and then second inquiring as to if she’d be interested in making other quilts that could be sold in the store. They were still in negotiations, which made Patrick smile every time he thought about it. He was so glad his parents loved David as well. His heart swelled every time he heard his mom call them “her boys.”

“Patrick?” David asked in a muffled voice, heavy with sleep. His face was still mostly burrowed into the quilt and Patrick’s chest.

“Yes, Love?” Patrick responded with a kiss on his hair. The words came out and were just _right. _

“Mhmm…” David mumbled as he fought to wake up. “Patrick, did you call me ‘Love?’” His eyes were still shut, his face turning up just slightly so Patrick could finally see more of his handsome face. David’s dark lashes on his cheeks, slightly rosy from the warmth under the blankets and his expressive mouth so kissable and just a few inches away.

Patrick kissed him again and pulled him in closer, left arm tightening around David. He was so pliable in the mornings before the tension entered his body again to face the day. “I, I did, Love.” He paused looking down at his fiancé. “Is that okay?” Patrick whispered watching for any reaction in David’s face.

The faintest smile graced David’s perfectly pink lips. “I think I can deal with that one. But only with us, kay?” And David opened one eye to get a peek at him.

“That’s fine with me, _Love_,” Patrick smiled and sighed down at this wonderfully complicated man. The man who could barely say “love” before they met, but now loved him so openly and honestly, he couldn’t imagine life without him. David shifted and raised his head just enough so Patrick could press a kiss to his lips.

“Mhmmm… now more sleep, my Patrick.” David was already almost back asleep. Patrick couldn’t help but grin. Warm, loved, cuddled up on a fall morning with the man who showed him just how wonderful his life could be. His _Love._


End file.
